The Great Flood of 2013 and its lasting legacy, the power of community

An unrelenting 18-hour-long deluge dumped a brutal 150 millimetres of rain on an already saturated land. A mind-boggling 1,800 cubic metres per second of rushing water turned rivers deadly. More than 100,000 southern Albertans were displaced. The price tag surpassed $6 billion for property and infrastructure damage. And the most devastating number of all, five lives lost.

On this — the fifth anniversary of the Great Flood of 2013 — those staggering numbers still have the power to shock and, for so many, to bring back traumatic memories. Yet the numbers only tell part of the story.

In the late spring of 2013, none of us who call this part of the world home could have envisioned what was about to unfold. A massive low-pressure system stalled over the foothills and on June 19, it brought a month’s worth of rain within hours — a key ingredient in what became Canada’s costliest natural disaster at the time and an event that would alter the landscape and our perceptions of what’s possible.

On June 20, the raging rivers fed by the east-slope Rocky Mountains and foothills began ripping through Canmore’s Cougar Creek neighbourhood, caused thousands of High River’s citizens to flee for their lives further downstream, turned much of Calgary’s downtown and river communities into a giant lake and rendered hundreds of members of the Siksika Nation east of the city homeless in a matter of hours.

As a journalist on the ground in High River that morning, I watched as the flood introduced its devastating power ahead of Calgary’s crisis. Ball diamonds, downtown streets and parking lots became rushing rapids, while emergency personnel and residents quickly began using their farm equipment and trucks to ferry terrified people to safety.

A man is stranded after his truck was submerged in flood waters in High River on June 20, 2013.Gavin Young / Postmedia

The lightning speed of the waters’ rise, the panic and fear the flood instilled, and the realization that even so-called higher ground offered little respite from danger was nothing short of jaw dropping.

Still, even in the midst of chaos and confusion, many thought of others before themselves. From the kind woman who ordered me into her truck as the waters lapped my legs to the retired firefighter who offered me a ride back in to the city — after my own vehicle was stranded on the other side of a fast-moving, flood-created river in the middle of town — I saw humanity’s best in those first few hours.

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Safely back home in Calgary the next day, that same kindness and generosity bloomed as sure as the June lilacs had only a few weeks earlier.

This is where something even more powerful than “a disaster by the numbers” count took over. In every hard-hit community, the days after the flood saw an unprecedented effort by those citizens whose homes were safe, as they helped those who were hard hit, offering everything from debris disposal and demolition services to sandwiches, bottles of water and even treats like popsicles and pies.

“It’s an extraordinary story and it’s something none of us will ever forget,” Calgary Mayor Naheed Nenshi said after the flood.

“The enduring image for me of the floods, a simple one, repeated so many thousands of times: the picture of that Calgarian, covered in mud and mosquito bites, marked with cuts and scratches and bruises, working to save the home of someone she doesn’t even know,” Nenshi famously said of his most salient impression of the community’s response.

A view of the submerged Calgary Stampede grounds and Saddledome on June 21, 2013.Jeff McIntosh / The Canadian Press

In the months and years after June of 2013, it was inevitable that many of those memories would fade into the background, such as the remarkable rescue of the Calgary Zoo’s animal inhabitants, the Stampede’s near-miraculous clean-up in time for the 101st annual show and the community effort to come to the aid of flood-hit residents, to name just a few.

Those not directly impacted moved on, while the flood victims dealt with — and in many cases, continue to deal with — the challenges of rebuilding and recovering financially, physically and emotionally.

Before I sat down to write on the fifth anniversary of the Great Flood of 2013, I was asked if I thought that the outpouring of kindness, that collective show of resilience and community cohesiveness, changed us as a community. Or is it now an almost forgotten part of local lore, considered only on the occasion of an anniversary?

Volunteers Laurie Boland, Doug Mackie and Paul Fisher push mud out of an alley between condos in Erlton on June 25, 2013.Lyle Aspinall / Postmedia

Over the past few weeks, I’ve surveyed friends and acquaintances, from those who were flooded out to those who rolled up their sleeves for a friend, a neighbour, a total stranger. While they differed on whether or not it had lasting effects on us collectively, I noted a similar thread in their recollections. For all, it continues to engender genuine pride in being part of a city where, when disaster strikes for some, many more help shoulder the burden.

The post-flood years haven’t been easy for the people of our city. The economic downturn that began in 2014 saw the oil and gas industry shed thousands of jobs; many whose homes were untouched by the raging floodwaters instead found themselves in danger of losing their houses to the banks.

The far-ranging impacts of the latest recession have had many on edge. Still, when Fort McMurray was devastated by fire two years ago, Calgarians and southern Albertans were front and centre in efforts to help, harkening back to the generosity seen in those days after the flood waters hit in 2013.

I don’t doubt that if our city were to be hit once again with disaster, those armies of do-gooders would be back out in full force. Still, on this fifth anniversary, we might be better to focus on those whose lives were upended in June of 2013, ensuring they continue to be supported as we move ahead.

Country music artist Paul Brandt helps out at a flood-damaged home in High River on July 16, 2013.Stuart Gradon / Postmedia

The Great Flood of 2013 laid claim to staggering numbers that reflected the devastation wrought by rivers raging out of control. Yet when most of us look back this week, I hope the focus will be less on what was lost and more on what was gained.

As country star and philanthropist Paul Brandt put it so well, the disaster’s true legacy will be the certainty that, in times of crisis, we are indeed here for one another. “It’s not the money we have in Canada that makes us wealthy,” said Brandt. “It’s the opportunity to pull ourselves out from under.”

Five years ago, thousands of Calgarians took up that opportunity. Their show of collective compassion, put into action, make me even prouder to call this place home.

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